


Sleep

by CarlywithaC



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, Sorry it's short, Tired Jack is Tired, let him rest, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 11:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarlywithaC/pseuds/CarlywithaC
Summary: "How'd ya sleep, Jack?""On me back, Mush."In which Jack is clearly not a morning person.





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Starting to transfer some of my stories from fanfic.net onto here.

Each and every day, one of the boys would ask me the same God-forsaken question.

"How'd ya sleep, Jack?"

I mean, it's always obvious I didn't get enough sleep, hell, none of us get enough sleep, by whatever sleepish response I give. They should just be able to take one look at me and say to themselves, "Hey, he looks tired, better not piss him off right now." But no, at least one person asks me each day. Granted, if it's one of the younger boys, I'll attempt to put a little enthusiasm in my voice, maybe throw in an "How 'bout you kid?"

So this morning, when good old Mush was the lucky bastard who asked me that wonderful question, I had the perfect comment prepared that I believed would shut him up.

"How'd ya sleep, Jack?"

"On me back, Mush."

I turned away, expecting him to walk off, defeated by my brilliant remark.

But, believe it or not, the boy started laughing. Laughing like a fucking clown.

And punching me.

"Hear that fellas..."

I was not amused in the least. Here I thought my snarky comment would get him to leave me alone, but it only made it worse. Now, not only was I dead tired, but was also getting punched repeatedly in the stomach. True, it was all in good fun, but still, it's not what one wants first thing in the morning. I lazily attempted to fight back, but I mean, I was doing up my pants for Christ's sake, not exactly ideal fighting conditions. Why the hell would you choose a time like that to punch a guy in the stomach? A sensible person would at least give the common courtesy to let a guy do up his pants.

But Mush ain't exactly sensible. I couldn't really blame him, it was just who he was. I think he may have been dropped as a baby, just a hunch. The boy is just too easily entertained. But why I had to be the victim of his foolishness this early in the morning seemed entirely unfair. He could have asked Blink or Crutchy. Those two were always wide awake the second Kloppman left the bunkroom.

But did Mush make that wise choice? No he did not. He chose to pick on me. You know what, I bet he saw me, dead tired and in the process of doing up my pants, and thought, "Hmm, I wonder if he had a good night's sleep or not, I can't really tell by the exhausted look on his face or his sluggish movement. I better go ask him."

The kid clearly doesn't have much common sense.

Thankfully, something else caught the boy's attention, causing him to turn away for a moment. I gave him one quick hit on his back before he walked off and Crutchy appeared next to me.

Now Crutchy is smarter than the kid appears.

He knows not to ask me how I slept.


End file.
